


Light-Bulb Moment

by JaneBlack



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Canon Compliant, Falling In Love, Hand Jobs, Humor, Love, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot, Porn With Plot, Romance, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-09-15 09:49:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16931001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaneBlack/pseuds/JaneBlack
Summary: Patrick falls in love with David. From Patrick's POV. Follows Schitt's Creek episodes with off-screen encounters of my own creation.This is a companion piece to my fic "The Little Things," which is the same story from David's POV.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was going to wait until I finished "The Little Things" before I posted this chapter, but I think I like the idea of working on them at the same time. Constructive feedback always appreciated.
> 
> As always, Dan Levy owns everything.

“It’s just not working, Rachel,” Patrick says dully. He’s said it to her several times before, but he still feels like an asshole.

He’s sitting on what used to be their bed, duffle bag next to him. She’s standing, slowly pacing the floor.

To her credit, she nods in agreement. “I know,” she says quietly. “I can feel there’s something wrong.” She looks out the window, not meeting his gaze, and he knows she doesn’t want him to see the tears in her eyes.

“It’s not even -” Patrick cuts off, not even sure what he’s planning on saying. He feels it too, but he can’t identify it, and it’s killing him not being able to label the thing that’s disintegrating his only real relationship. “I just need to leave.”

She looks at him then. “Where are you going?”

Patrick stands. “I rented a room in Schitt’s Creek,” he answers evenly. “A realtor there offered me a contract for some CPA work for a few months. After that, not sure.”

Rachel is shaking her head. “You can’t just up and leave, Patrick, you can stay here for as long as you want -”

“I can’t,” he says. He feels like he’s making her cry, even though she’s sweet enough that she’ll never blame him. “We need a clean break, Rachel. This is it, for me.”

The tears are real, now, rolling down her face, and she wipes them away. She nods silently.

He leaves without looking back.

The two-hour drive to Schitt’s Creek is scenic enough. He takes a county road just off the freeway. Patrick listens to the local radio station for a while until he doesn’t get reception anymore, then switches it off and drives in silence. He’s glad he left early enough that he’ll get to the house before dark; Ray had mailed him a key a few weeks ago, but he’d like to move in during daylight hours. 

Not that he has a lot to move. He looks in the rearview mirror. Two boxes of mostly blue clothes, his guitar, and sundry toiletries are really all he has left.

Everything else is back with Rachel.

**********************************

 

A few weeks later, he’s pouring coffee on a Monday morning when he hears the front door open and close.

“Patriiiiick!”

 

Ray’s unmistakable intonation travels through the rooms. Patrick sets his coffee mug down; his ten o’clock must be here. Ray has passed off the appointment to him as something “more in his wheelhouse,” though Patrick has an inkling Ray just doesn’t like doing paperwork.

He crosses through the sitting room into the front office. Ray’s handing a ticket to a tall guy wearing all black. Patrick takes in his features; he’s got thick dark hair and noticeably high cheekbones. Patrick doesn’t usually notice features like that. If he were a poetic person, he’d call the guy “striking.”

The stranger hands Patrick his ticket. “This is for you,” he says. He sounds perturbed.

Patrick doesn’t blame him. Ray confuses a lot of people. He holds out his hand. “Patrick,” he says with a smile.

“David,” the man says, and it jogs Patrick’s memory. He’d glanced through this guy’s paperwork last Friday in preparation for their appointment.

“David Rose! You bought the general store,” he remembers out loud. He’d looked into this guy. The family had fallen on hard times and moved to Schitt’s Creek because it was their only remaining asset. The scandal was all over the news a couple years ago. As far as Patrick can tell from the Rose Video business records he’s been nerding over, it’s through no fault of the family; they’d been screwed over by a corrupt business manager.

Tough break, he thinks absently. This guy looks all right, though.

“Leased,” David is correcting him. “Leased the general store, yeah.”

Patrick’s curious about his business plan. Coming from a family like that, it could go a lot of ways. “That’s a big deal,” he says.

“Is it?” David replies. He looks unconvinced.

“Yeah! Yeah it is,” Patrick says. He wonders whether David has had the opportunity to learn any business skills from his father’s legacy, or whether he’s just going in blind. He makes a mental note to write up a cost-revenue analysis spreadsheet to share with him.

They sit across the desk from one another and Patrick grabs a pen. “Okay, start with the name of the business,” he says, then looks up expectantly.

“Oh, um, I’m oscillating between two names at the moment, so if you could leave that one blank, that would be great,” David says.

Oscillate. That’s an SAT word if he ever heard one.

“Sure,” he agrees, fighting back a grin. “I’ll give you more time to - oscillate.”

David looks a bit taken aback. Patrick powers through it. Asks a few more questions. 

As it turns out, David doesn’t really have any idea what he’s doing. Patrick empathizes; running a business often looks easy from the outside, especially if you’re the kid of a man who built a small business into a multi-million-dollar company. David probably wasn’t exposed to any of the red tape his dad had to cut through to get things going. His business idea doesn’t actually sound terrible, though. Patrick is optimistic that something can come of it, but it’s clear David needs more time to collect his thoughts.

He probably also needs a wake-up call about how much help he needs.

“Tell you what. Why don’t you take this home with you and finish it when you have a clearer idea of what you want to do with your business?” Patrick suggests. He hands the form across the desk. David’s already paid rent for the place, it’s not like it’s urgent they finish this today.

“I do have a clear idea,” David says adamantly, but takes the paper anyway.

“You’ve settled on a name, then?” Patrick retorts.

David looks even more taken aback. “You’re either very impatient, or extremely sure of yourself,” he says pointedly.

Patrick grins. He likes this guy. Maybe after they get this paperwork done they can have a beer together. Although David doesn’t really look like a beer person. “Threw you a bit of a change-up there, huh?”

“I don’t know what that means, I don’t play cricket.” David says absently, studying the blank form in front of him. 

Patrick outright laughs. “Look, take this,” he says, handing David his card. “I feel like you will need it.”

“You know what, I think I’m good,” David says. “Thank you for this.”

Patrick kind of likes the way he talks with his hands so much. It makes him interesting to watch. “Nice to meet you, David.” 

He’s pretty sure he’ll hear from him soon.

******************************

Patrick notices his phone ringing during his former colleague’s birthday lunch, but doesn’t pick up. When he makes back to the office an hour later, he notes that David Rose has left him no less than eight voicemails. He smiles and taps in his voicemail PIN, tossing his phone on the desk and activating speakerphone.

“Hi David, it’s Patrick,” David’s voice comes through the speaker, and Patrick snorts a laugh. For all the guy’s swagger, he’s still subject to the same screw-ups as everyone else. “I was just calling to run my business plan by you in a little more detail. So feel free to give me a call back and I’ll be happy to walk you through it. Ciao.” Beep.

Great, Patrick thinks, a smile on his face. Sounds reasonable enough, name mix-up aside.

The next next voicemail queues up. “Hi Patrick,” David’s voice says. He sounds even less sure of himself in this recording than the last. “I think I called you David, which - that’s not - that’s not your name - you can just delete that text - the me- the voicemail that I just left you. Um.”

Patrick is laughing out loud. 

“Is that David?” Ray calls from the other room. “What’s wrong with him? Is he having a stroke?”

“No idea,” Patrick answers honestly. David sounds hopelessly flustered. It’s kind of cute.

Cute? Patrick shakes off that foreign thought and jots down a few notes from the voicemail, then listens to the rest. 

They actually kind of make sense, in a strange, word-salad way. David wants to market goods from local farmers and artisans on consignment under a unified brand. Patrick’s impressed. It’s a model that’s usually tried in urban markets, but is suited pretty well to this area of the country, considering the number of farms and dairies around. Elmdale and Pierson are within half an hour’s drive of Schitt’s Creek. Patrick thinks this kind of store might actually be supported by the local and peripheral populations.

Still, it’s clear David has no logistic knowledge whatsoever. No matter. Patrick grabs a fresh B-13 form as he listens to the final voicemail.

“And the name - I think I’ve settled on ‘Rose Apothecary,’” David is saying. “I’m going for like a ‘sundry goods’ sort of feel, like in the olden days pharmacy, but less medicine-y, you know? Like homey, but upscale. Let me know if you like that.”

Patrick loves it.

****************************** 

David comes back that very same day.

Patrick is happy to see him. For the first time in a long time, he’s excited about getting started on a project. David’s business idea is a sustainable one. It’s one that could work. He makes sure to tell David that, and David looks pleased.

Patrick’s pleased that he’s pleased.

Of course, he also can’t resist a little good-natured ribbing at the guy’s expense. David reacts fairly well, considering they just met this morning.

“I like the name,” he says finally. “‘Rose Apothecary.’ It’s just pretentious enough.”

“Would we call that ‘pretentious’ or ‘timeless’?” David retorts.

Patrick can’t help but smile. This guy gives as good as he gets. Patrick doesn’t have the heart to tell him the locals around here probably equate timelessness with pretentiousness.

“I’ll call you when I hear something,” he says out loud. Then adds, because he can’t resist, “Oh, and if I don’t get ahold of you I’ll just - leave a message.”

“Okay, thanks,” David says, making a face that’s the adult equivalent of sticking out one’s tongue.

“Ciao!” Ray calls from across the room as David leaves.

Patrick waits til the door is shut behind him before he starts laughing again. He goes around to sit at his desk and opens his drawer. He’s going to expedite David’s license application. The sooner they can get started on this project, the better.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is heavy on episode dialogue because I found it necessary to include in order to get a true picture of Patrick's mindset when it comes to David. Later chapters will definitely have more prose, and fulfill the rating.
> 
> As always, I own nothing.

The business license comes through in just under two weeks, which is amazing by Schitt’s Creek standards. Patrick assumes that has something to do with Moira Rose sitting on city council.

Protocol is to drop the license in the mail, but Patrick wants to drop it off himself. He’s curious about the store building itself, having only driven by. It’s apparently a local historic landmark protected by the county historical society, which he finds pretty cool. He’d also like to talk to David Rose again. The guy is kind of an enigma, Patrick has to admit. He’s definitely worlds apart from anyone else living in Schitt’s Creek, with the possible exception of Mrs. Rose, who seems like an adventure herself. Patrick is interested in hearing more about his plans for the store and about what he can do to help, because goodness knows David needs it.

When he gets there, however, he’s greeted by a pretty young woman who introduces herself as Alexis, David’s sister. She shakes his hand and apologizes for her soft skin. 

Patrick chuckles. This whole family is an adventure.

“Where’s David?” he asks, setting the business license on the counter. He looks around the room at the half-unpacked boxes lying around.

Alexis is rummaging through some knit goods. “He’s in the back, grabbing something. He’ll be right out.”

Patrick picks up a couple of the bottles from the table and slowly turns them in his hands, studying them. “Did he design these labels?” he asks Alexis. She’s busy opening product bottles and sniffing at their contents.

She sidles up next to him to look at what he’s holding. “Yes! He’s always been good at that stuff, you know, artsy creative kind of stuff. Not really my area. I’m more of a people person.” She gives him a dazzling smile.

He smiles back, then looks back down at the bottle in his hands. The labels are beautiful. The design is straightforward and succinct, communicating exactly what they are, but with an elegance that really has visual interest. Patrick is impressed by David’s ability, especially since he doesn’t think he has an formal training in graphic design. “These look really great,” he says out loud.

“Mm-hm. So where are you from?” Alexis asks, winding her hair around her finger.

Patrick looks up at her. “Oh. A couple hours north of here, on Route 33. I just moved here a few weeks ago.”

“Well, aren’t we lucky to have you,” she said charmingly, putting a hand on his bicep and squeezing a little. She looks at the bottle in his hands. It’s cologne, sourced from the local Mennonite farm outside of town. “Hey, that actually smells pretty good. You should give it a try.”

“Ah, I don’t know,” Patrick says. Cologne really isn’t his thing.

She’s already distracted. “Oooh, look at this!” She pulls a long winter scarf from a box and loops it around his neck.

Patrick starts to feel awkward. She’s flirting with him, he realizes. He’s not interested, but she doesn’t really strike him as the kind of person who takes no for an answer. 

“Isn’t it so soft?” she chirps, and he laughs awkwardly.

“It is - oh, might be tying it a little tight there -”

David’s voice comes from behind him. “Um, that’s actually cat hair. A Himalayan breeder up the street knits them for us.”

Patrick takes him in. His thick, black hair is perfectly coiffed, as usual, and he’s wearing a very avante garde sweatshirt with an outline of a baseball on it. Patrick, recalling their previous conversations, wonders if David even knows what it is.

David looks pointedly at Patrick. “Hi.”

Patrick suddenly feels somewhat foolish, like he’s been caught doing something bad, and a little bit like he’s trespassing on David’s turf. He should’ve called first. “Hi, I’m just dropping off your business license and -” he grips the scarf that Alexis still has wound around her fingers “- activating my allergies.”

“In that case, you should probably take that off. Like, now.” He sounds irritated. He walks over and picks up the business license sitting on the counter.

Patrick complies as quickly as possible. “Yep, sorry.” He folds the scarf carefully and sets it down on the table.

“Isn’t that the sweetest thing, that he framed it!” Alexis is cooing. Patrick looks up. David is studying his business license, turning it over in his hands.

David looks up at him, and Patrick’s sheepish feeling eases when David gives him a small smile. “It is very sweet, thank you Patrick,” David says.

Patrick has to come clean. “Actually, they all come framed,” he says honestly.

“Oh thank God,” David says. “I was just thinking this frame is a little too corporate for my brand.”

Patrick feels a little disappointed. He’d picked out the frame because he’d thought it looked nice. Artsy creative stuff wasn’t really his thing either. Clearly David Rose had a leg up in that department.

“I was just going to sample the unisex Mennonite cologne on Patrick,” Alexis says happily. 

“That’s not a sample!” David exclaims, and bickering commences that Patrick can only assume is a daily occurrence between the two siblings.

Patrick looks around for a minute, then interrupts their squabble. “There’s a lot of stuff here, David. You don’t want to spend too much money up front.” He means it. David has front-loaded the purchasing of local goods without a clear start-up plan or even a proposal for a grand opening. The business model might be a good one, but it’s not going to be successful unless David keeps costs near enough to revenue that he survives the first year. 

He says as much, with Alexis agreeing. “The textbooks now say eighteen months,” she supplies.

David responds on the defensive. “What are the textbooks saying about curating a selection of products from local vendors and selling them on consignment in a one-stop-shop retail environment that benefits both the vendor and the customer?” he says sarcastically.

Patrick looks down, feeling sheepish again. David makes a good point. The business model wasn’t a common one, and would require more flexibility and creativity than a lot of business owners were likely capable of. It also meant that traditional business applications didn’t necessarily apply. He doesn’t mean to insult David’s intelligence or ambitions, and he feels badly that it may have come across that way. “I stand corrected,” he says simply, with a smile.

Luckily, David smiles back at him. Patrick feels emboldened. “Listen, if you need help, I’m happy to help,” Patrick offers. He means it.

The more he sees of David Rose, the more intrigued he is.

**********************************

Patrick sits in his office chair, swiveling back and forth a little bit.

He’d helped David at the store for the rest of the day before calling it quits. David had thanked him profusely (for David, that is). He seemed to be warming up to Patrick, and Patrick was getting the sense that the sarcastic demeanor was a defensive mechanism more than a feature of his personality. 

Now that he’d seen the inside of it, Rose Apothecary is a tangible thing for Patrick, and he feels more invested than ever in its success. David has given him copies of his inventory sheets, price lists, and expense ratios, because Patrick had asked. David had handed them over with minimal teasing about how much of a nerd Patrick is. Patrick smiles at the memory of the interaction and leafs through the paperwork now. 

And sees a problem. A small problem, but one that could potentially pull David’s feet out from under him. No doubt, the building itself, the interior, and products look great; David’s design and vision are on point. He’s got enough products to kick start a successful season. But the ratios of expected revenue to cost for this first year, especially considering David’s income tax, are tight. A lot tighter than Patrick is comfortable with.

Patrick leans back in his chair, tossing the problem around in his head. He does some Googling and comes up with a few potential solutions. He resolves to visit the store again first thing tomorrow morning. He’s definitely willing to go to bat for David Rose.

*******************************

“Uh-oh,” David says by way of greeting when he sees Patrick. “I take it you’re here to tell me my business license has been revoked?” His tone is teasing.

Patrick laughs, genuinely happy to see David. “No, no, you’re all good.”

“Okay, well,” David leans over and gathers up some electronic equipment. “My sister isn’t here.”

Patrick keeps his face neutral, but inside he’s cringing. David thinks he was hitting on Alexis yesterday. Not the most professional impression he could have made. He hopes David still considers his proposition. “I’m not here for your sister,” he says, looking around the room.

“Okay,” David says, looking quizzically at him. Patrick doesn’t blame him. His visit is somewhat out in left field.

Patrick explains. “I’ve been thinking about all this,” he says, gesturing at the store. “I’m actually really impressed. The whole model is actually very sustainable.” He means what he says. Patrick isn’t one for empty compliments.

David looks surprised and pleased. “Thank you,” he says. 

“But,” Patrick continues, “I think you’re going to need some more start-up money.”

David’s shoulders drop. “Where do you think I’ll get that money?” he asks.

“If you’re supporting local businesses, there are grants you can apply for,” Patrick says. “I’d be happy to help you with those applications.” There was the easy part.

David looks surprised. “Well, that is very, very generous,” he says, eyebrows raised in disbelief.

Patrick smiles. Here’s the hard part. “Well, I wouldn’t be doing it for free,” he warns. “If the grants came through, you’d have the money to start paying me.” He waits for David’s reaction.

David looks like he doesn’t quite know what to do with himself. Patrick wonders if he’s put a little too much on David’s plate at the moment. He quickly assuages David’s uncertainty.

“I really think you have something here, David,” he says sincerely. “You just need some help.” He looks David right in the eye. “You need a lot of help.”

He watches David’s thought process as that information filters through. On the one hand, David seems to be a staunch individualist. On the other, Patrick knows that David knows that business is not something he has meaningful experience with.

Finally, David agrees, and Patrick has to come clean about the frame.

**********************************

Patrick drives home ecstatic. 

He’s ecstatic that his work here in Schitt’s Creek consists of more now than managing real estate accounts. He’s ecstatic that he’ll be working on such an innovative business model. He’s ecstatic at David’s creativity and vision, and is the perfect complement to his logistics knowledge. 

He’s ecstatic that David said yes.

He grins the whole way back to Ray’s. His smile doesn’t falter as he throws the gearshift in park and heads into the office. 

He fishes his phone out of his pocket, tosses it on the desk. Notices he has a text message. David probably has more questions about the grants they’re applying for.

Patrick taps the message open as he rummages in his desk, grabs pens and other things he needs. The stark words blink onto the screen.

RACHEL:

How are you doing? I hope everything’s going well with you.

Patrick’s movements slow to a stop. He blinks at the message.

He’s not surprised at all that Rachel has texted him. Even through their long separations, they’ve always stayed in touch.

What surprises Patrick - shocks him, really - is the realization that dawns on him as the memory of their most recent breakup just two months ago comes back to him.

He hasn’t thought about her in weeks.

He leans back in his chair, staring blankly at the wall. He breathes in.

He hasn’t thought about her since he met David Rose.

“Huh,” he says aloud. The empty office has no reply.


	3. Chapter 3

It takes Patrick all of a week working with David to admit to himself that he has a crush on the man.

The first inkling he has is early on a Monday evening. Patrick walks in to see him arranging planters. The shelves he’s using span the wall from floor to ceiling, David is on a step ladder, reaching overhead, pushing small pails with succulents and reeds along the highest shelf. His brow is knit in concentration, his mouth is very slightly open. The sun is setting, and the low light throws David’s features into high relief.

Patrick blinks at how extremely attractive he is, and blinks again at that thought.

The second inkling he has is the following Tuesday morning when he asks whether the body milk is a consumable. He thinks the label might be confusing. David scoffs at him and tells him anyone with a fiber of common sense would understand it’s lotion. Patrick laughs. He likes it when David makes fun of him. He likes all of their joking banter. It feels easy, natural. It feels like they’re flirting.

Patrick has to take a few deep breaths when that occurs to him.

He knows David likes men. David hasn’t actually come out to him, but he and Alexis have both mentioned, offhand and very briefly, previous male dating partners of David’s. One is named Sebastian. The Roses seem to collectively dislike him.

So David has definitely flirted with men. Patrick, however, has definitely not. Patrick has less than zero experience flirting with men, or considering them to be romantic options at all. In fact, Patrick can’t remember the last time he flirted with a woman. He must have with Rachel at some point, but he doesn’t remember ever feeling like this. The butterflies are in his stomach, the sun is shining a little brighter, the birds are singing, et cetera, et cetera.

The biggest indication of his crush - the light-bulb moment, really - occurs on Friday night, following their store’s grand opening.

“The good thing is,” Patrick says as David locks the door, “We never have to talk about it again. We’re officially open.” He’s grinning, and David grins back. They’re running high on the success of their first day open.

“Congratulations, man,” Patrick says sincerely, and opens his arms for a friendly embrace. 

“Congratulations to you,” David returns, and readily accepts the hug. 

Their embrace lasts seven seconds. Patrick counts. He spends seven full seconds wrapped up in David’s arms, the warmth of his body flowing into Patrick’s.

His entire world shifts.

 _Oh,_ he realizes.

The lights flicker.

David’s family starts texting him soon after and they depart, with solid plans to call the electrician first thing in the morning.

Patrick drives home in a daze, his entire body buzzing. He feels strangely light with revelation. He pulls into his driveway, shuts the engine off, and sits there in the silent solitude of the car.

He says it out loud. 

“I’m gay.”

Patrick blinks at how it sounds, then blinks again at how right it sounds.

It sure explains a lot, anyway.

*********************************

Patrick spends quite a lot of time processing over the next couple of weeks.

In the store, of course, he’s as professional as ever. He’s able to compartmentalize his realization - the one David Rose was instrumental in uncovering - from how he interacts with David. He still flirts with him, of course. He’s just not as confused about it.

At home, he spends a lot of time lying in his bed staring at the ceiling, trying to remember various points in his life when he could have discovered this facet of his sexuality, but didn’t.

The fact is, the number of romantic interests he’s had he can count on one hand, and most were overshadowed by his relationship with Rachel. The two of them had been together on and off since they were sixteen. Patrick had not been self-reflective enough at that age to even consider the possibility he was anything other than straight, though he was raised in a fairly liberal household with no real reason to dismiss it out of hand. Several of his extended family members were queer. By the time he’d matured in his early twenties, he and Rachel had been sexually active for years. Patrick simply never considered other options.

He files through the times they’d split up in his mind. It had never been because of another woman. He’d repeatedly called it off because it just wasn’t working. They didn’t fit. Going day to day with Rachel was like wearing the world’s most comfortable pair of shoes with a small pebble in the heel; they were friends, best friends even, and got along great, but something was off. He’d felt guilty each and every time he split up with her, as he’d once planned on spending his life with her. He’d always assumed the reason they weren’t working what because of something he was doing wrong. He’d never quite put his finger on it.

Now, here in Schitt’s Creek, Patrick spends hours in his room at Ray’s slowly internalizing the fact that he has feelings for David. He imagines being close to David, using the memory of their embrace to drive his fantasy, and the idea thrills him. He imagines touching David, putting his hands on his shoulders, running his fingers through his hair. Feeling one of those fuzzy sweatshirts. His stomach tightens pleasantly at the thought. He wonders what it would be like to kiss him.

So Patrick does the next logical thing in his mind: he decides to ask him out. That is, after all, what you do what you’re interested in someone, right?

Patrick has been wrestling with just how to go about actually showing his interest to David for a week or two when the opportunity presents itself. David admits he has no plans for his birthday, and Patrick boldly offers to compensate for the elder Rose’s lack of interest in their son by offering to take him out.

“We could go for a birthday dinner?” he asks tentatively. He has no idea what he’s doing.

David blinks at him. “You don’t have to do that,” he says, speaking modestly for perhaps the first time ever.

Patrick cringes inwardly. David thinks he’s asking him out of pity. “I’d like to,” he assures David, stammering a little.

David looks at him for a moment longer before accepting, and Patrick feels the thrill of success tremble through him as they agree on a time.

*********************************

David kisses him, and Patrick feels like he’s being born. 

The butterflies in his stomach are now a fluttering storm, and the buzz is carried through his entire body, all the way to his fingertips. He breathes for a few seconds. 

“Thank you, David,” he says in a low voice.

David’s giving him a warm smile. “For what?” he asks.

Patrick can only ever be honest with him. “I’ve never done that before,” he confesses. “With a guy.”

David looks taken aback, as if he’s searching for a response. “Okay,” he says after a moment, sounding cautious. 

Patrick understands. David is far more experienced than he is in the dating department, not to mention the ‘dating men’ department. He probably wasn’t banking on Patrick being completely new to it. The last thing he wants is to scare David away with his naivete, or for David to think that he’s using him. _I just want you,_ he thinks desperately. He searches instead for a more neutral way to sound out what he’s feeling.

“I was getting scared that I was going to let you leave here without us having done that,” he stammers finally. “So thank you for making that happen for us.” He looks over at David.

David’s face is relaxed into a smile. “Well, fortunately, I’m a very generous person,” he says, and Patrick can’t help but smile back.

He knows it’s not that simple. He knows the newness of it makes it all the more complicated.

“Can we talk tomorrow?” he asks hopefully, and David nods.

“We can talk whenever you like,” David says, as softly and kindly as he’s ever spoken, and Patrick feels the weight of uncertainty and questioning lift from his shoulders.

Patrick gets home, gets in bed, tries to sleep. He can’t. His entire body is still vibrating with the impact of the huge step forward he’s made that night.

He can’t stop smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took a lot of liberties with Patrick’s thoughts and feelings during his coming to terms with his sexuality in this chapter. We don’t see a whole lot in the show - just a little in 3.13 and 4.01 - but coming to terms with a queer sexual orientation is an emotionally involved process for just about anyone. Still, I think it’s important to remember that for Patrick, his feelings for David come first, and the development of his sexual orientation is an almost secondary development.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second half of the scene from the third chapter of "The Little Things," which is from David's POV. Stands alone.

“Take your clothes off and lie down,” David commands. Patrick laughs. The very first blowjob he’s ever given has gone over well, apparently. 

He’s sitting on the edge of his bed, fully clothed, with a very naked, somewhat mussed David Rose standing in front of him. A slight sheen of sweat covers David’s chest and stomach. Judging by the force of his orgasm and subsequent vocalizations, David is pretty satisfied, and now wants to return the favor. 

Patrick leans forward, his hands on David’s waist, and presses a kiss over his heart before standing to comply with his orders. This puts them chest-to-chest, and Patrick gasps a little at the contact. Having David’s cock in his mouth had been very arousing, and Patrick is sporting an erection that is only encouraged by David curling his fingers around the back of Patrick neck, tilting his head up, and giving him a deep, sensual kiss.

Patrick can’t get his clothes off fast enough. Once shirtless, he manages to unbuckle his belt and unfasten his jeans only to tumble onto his back on the bed as David takes it upon himself to remove his jeans and underwear for him. As soon that that task is completed, David hooks his palms under Patrick’s thighs, grips him tightly, and pushes him back across the bedspread, following him on his hands and knees.

Patrick’s mind is whirling. He’s just given his first blowjob, and is now splayed out on his bed, nude and exposed, with a tall, dark, handsome, also nude man crawling towards him like a panther in heat. As arousing as he finds the whole situation, a lot is happening all at once, and several of those things are firsts for him.

David seems to sense this. He kneels between Patrick’s spread legs and leans over him, stroking his legs and sides gently. “Full marks on your first blowjob,” he says, kissing him sweetly. Patrick starts to relax.

“Glad you liked it,” Patrick murmurs when they break apart. 

Their bodies touch, and Patrick moans at the perfect sensation of their cocks trapped together between their stomachs as David settles down on top of Patrick between his legs.

“Your turn,” David whispers in his ear as he places small kisses along his neck and jawline. “Any requests?”

Patrick isn’t sure what to do. He has several ideas, but saying them out loud is a different story. “Um,” he says.

David cups his face and looks at him, bumping their noses together a little. “Tell you what,” David says. “I’m gonna start by going down on you, and we can take it from there if you want.”

Patrick nods, exhaling. “Okay,” he breathes. He can do that.

David slowly kisses a trail down the center of Patrick’s chest, and Patrick sighs. When David takes his cock into his mouth, Patrick can’t help but groan, lifting his arms over his head and covering his face. David has given him oral once before, very passionately; this time, his pace is easy, his tongue caressing Patrick’s shaft as he grips the base with one hand and strokes Patrick’s thighs with the other.

Patrick is melting. It’s so good, so good. He’s taking deep, shuddering breaths to keep from whimpering. His knees come up and his toes grip the bedspread as he reaches overhead to clasp his headboard, as if gripping the wooden rungs will somehow ground him. David maintains the slow, steady pace until Patrick is aching for more intensity.

He can’t stop himself. “David, please,” he begs.

David slides his mouth off of Patrick’s shaft and looks up at him. “Do you trust me?” he asks softly, placing kisses on the inside of Patrick’s thigh. The feeling of stubble against his skin is making him insane.

Patrick nods. “Yes,” he gasps.

David concentrates his kisses lower. “Can I finger you?” he asks. He’s kneading Patrick’s ass with his fingers.

“Yes,” Patrick says immediately. 

“Have you ever tried -?”

“No,” Patrick stammers. His face is hot. “Just - I’ve not - it’s never -”

David shushes him. “You don’t have to explain, sweetheart.”

The endearment wraps around Patrick’s heart. His fingers tighten around the rungs of the headboard. As an afterthought, and with no small amount of blushing, he says, “Lube’s in the nightstand.”

David looks up at him with a surprised grin on his face. “Well, look at you,” he says teasingly, leaning up to slide the drawer open and grab the bottle.

“Fuck you,” Patrick moans in irritated arousal, covering his face with his hands.

“Not tonight,” David says. “That’ll be another time. I do appreciate you thinking ahead, though,” he adds, tilting his chin at the brand new box of condoms that accompanied the lube in the drawer.

Patrick is trying to think of a clever retort when David resumes his activity, now with his fingers covered in a generous amount of lube. Any reply he comes up with is cut off with a moan as David wraps one slick hand around his erection and presses his fingers gently against Patrick’s puckered hole.

Patrick’s eyes roll back in his head before fluttering closed, and he unwittingly widens his legs.

David doesn’t rush. He starts by gently massaging his opening, alternating slow strokes on Patrick’s cock with gripping the base firmly. “Breathe and relax,” he whispers, and Patrick does.

And feels like a slut when David’s finger slides into him with little to no resistance. He can’t keep the groan from escaping him. After few moments of slow thrusting and massaging, a second finger is added. That’s a little harder to accommodate, and Patrick winces.

“Deep breath,” David murmurs. Patrick relaxes.

David stops at two fingers, thrusting shallowly until Patrick is opened up, then pushes deeper. Patrick knows what the goal is, but having no previous experience with finding it himself, feels ill-equipped to help. David is undeterred, and as Patrick relaxes further, he’s fingering his ass with pointed enthusiasm, probing deeper, until - 

“Fuck, David!” Patrick yelps, his hips jerking forward. The pads of David’s fingertips had struck a spot inside of him that has him seeing stars. His breath comes in desperate pants.

“That’s what I thought,” David purrs, smiling against Patrick’s thigh.

David has his target and is stroking with his fingers and Patrick is ruined. The pleasure is so complete and intense that his hips are moving desperately, rising off the bed, seeking out David’s touch. David rubs the spot again and again, easing off intermittently to reduce the intensity, building the tension and pressure inside of Patrick to a reverberating hum. He attends to Patrick’s cock as well, adding lube to jerk him off in earnest, and Patrick is so close he can feel it, feel pressure building up with the promise to explode as he strains towards orgasm. His thighs quake with the effort. 

Patrick opens his eyes and looks down just in time to see the vision before him, beautiful naked David Rose thrusting his fingers into his ass, hand pumping his cock, sucking gently on the skin on the inside of his thighs, and his finger strokes just the right spot with just the pressure he needs. It undoes him. Patrick comes, groaning and gasping and shuddering with pleasure as the release of tension spirals through him. His seed covers his stomach and chest, and he collapses, spent and exhausted and covered in sweat.

“Fuck,” he says weakly. David is carefully extracting his fingers. He looks up at Patrick and grins.

“Good?” he echoes Patrick’s earlier question.

“Ha,” Patrick croaks. He doesn’t have the energy to say much else. His eyes are fluttering shut.

He feels the bed move as David collects tissues to clean them up. He hears the water running in the bathroom. Then he’s joined by David, who pulls the duvet up and over them.

“Big spoon or little spoon?” he asks.

“Little,” Patrick mumbles. David snuggles up behind him and wraps around his back, kissing his cheek and entwining their fingers. He feels like he needs to say something, but sleep is overtakes him.

**********************************

Patrick wakes up the next morning with the sun. It’s shining through the blinds, making dappled patterns on the wall. Stretching, he looks over at the sleeping form next to him. David is lying on his stomach with him arms around his pillow, snoring softly. Patrick smiles, leans over and starts placing soft kisses across David’s bare shoulders.

“Mmph,” David murmurs, burying his head deeper into his pillow. “Hm-mm. No.”

Patrick grins wider. “Morning, sleepyhead,” he says softly.

“Coffee,” David tells the pillow.  


Patrick chuckles. “I’ll be right back,” he promises. He rolls out of bed, pulls on his boxers, and pads downstairs to the kitchen to start the coffee pot. As he’s assembling the pot, his phone pings from the counter where he’d dropped it last night. He absentmindedly taps open the text message.

RACHEL 

Hey, I’m going to be in Schitt’s Creek in a couple days. Can we meet up? 

Patrick considers the message for a moment, then deletes it.


	5. Chapter 5

Patrick is a shaking mass of guilt, shame, and utter panic.

“I need some time with this,” David is saying tearfully, and Patrick can’t do anything but acquiesce.

He leaves David looking torn and hollow in his motel room and storms back to the picnic area where Rachel, Stevie, and the Roses are waiting.

They look at him awkwardly. He can’t be bothered to give a fuck. He can deal with them hating him later. He reaches the picnic table and throws some food on a plate.

“Take this to David?” he asks Stevie brusquely, thrusting the plate into her hands. She nods silently and hurriedly carries the plate away.

Patrick turns to the remaining Roses. “Would you all give Rachel and me a moment here, please?” he asks them, making eye contact with each of them individually.

“Um, but we haven’t eaten -” Alexis objects.

“Please,” Patrick repeats firmly, and Moira ushers her away with Johnny following them down the walkway to their rooms.

Patrick turns to look at Rachel. His expression is stone, willfully obscuring the fact that his heart is in the process of breaking. He’s not stupid. “Needing some time” is all too often a death sentence for a relationship. They’re words he’s said more than once himself.

To Rachel. He glares at her, heartbreak quickly working its way into anger at her for so suddenly thrusting their past relationship into his present. 

Rachel looks worried and confused. She’s watching the Roses depart, shifting from foot to foot and wringing her hands together. “Patrick, that guy -” 

“David,” he supplies pointedly. He crosses his arms and leans against the picnic table. “His name is David.”

Rachel looks at him, gesturing between where Patrick is now standing next to the picnic table and the direction of the hotel room David had escaped into. “You and him - you guys are -”

“Together, yes. Dating,” Patrick says. “Or we were, up until about five minutes ago.” He’s still processing the terrifying possibility that being ‘together’ with David might very well be in the past for him.

She stares at him in disbelief. “So that means - are you -” she breaks off, then starts again, “I mean, he’s a guy, so you’re -” 

“Gay,” he says succinctly. “The word you’re trying very hard not to say is ‘gay.’ And yes, I am.” He thinks for a moment, lifts a shoulder. “Probably.”

She stares at him. “Patrick, I had no idea. I mean, you never were before -”

“Yeah, that’s not really how it works, Rachel,” he sighs irritably. He takes a seat at the picnic table, rubbing his face with his hands. 

She’s still staring at him as if he’s a species of animal she’s never seen before, anger starting to tinge her features. “I feel like I would have known if you were _gay_ , Patrick,” she insists at him. “We were together for a pretty long damn time.”

Patrick hold his hands wide, glaring. “How the fuck would you have known?” he asks, his voice starting to rise. “I didn’t even know!”

“What do you mean, you didn’t know? You didn’t figure it out any of the hundreds of times we slept together?” she demands in disbelief.

Patrick struggles to find the right words to explain his David-Rose-induced revelation. “I didn’t realize it when we were together because I didn’t have anything to compare us to,” he says finally. “I know now that we, us - it was never right for me.” He isn’t sure whether that’s a sensical explanation, but it is the best one Rachel is going to get at the moment.

She sits down at the picnic table across from him, studying his face, and her expression of confusion and anger softens. “I’m sorry, Patrick. I guess this is just kind of a shock for me,” she says slowly, folding her hands together.

“Imagine how I feel,” he replies solemnly. “Rachel, look, I’m sorry I didn’t reply to your texts. This thing with David is pretty new, and I wanted to keep my past -” he cringes inwardly “- romantic attempts out of our relationship for a little while longer.”

Rachel looks hurt and not a little indignant. “‘Romantic attempts?’ Patrick, we were together for years. We were engaged.”

“I know,” he says. “I know.” He rubs his face with his hands again. He’s still not sure exactly how to verbalize what he’s going through. It’s jarring. He had not started the day out expecting it to end like this. 

Maybe David had been right. Maybe the cookie had been tempting fate.

“I’ve been texting you for days,” she says, now sounding angry. “You could have answered and explained this at any moment. You could have saved me the time and energy of coming down here. You could have been honest with me.” She points towards the motel, ostensibly where David is holed up. “And him.”

Her words cut him like a knife to the heart. 

“You’re right,” he says. “I just -” He doesn't really know what to say, or what to do, or how to make this shitstorm of a situation even a little bit better.

Rachel looks at him. They’re silent for a moment.

“When did you know?” she asked softly. “I mean, when did you figure it out? That you like guys?”

“It’s not guys, Rachel,” he says. “I mean, it is, but - I realized it -” He fights himself for a moment, struggling even now to identify the true answer to her question. “I realized I like David,” he said evenly. “Everything else just kind of came after.”

Rachel looks at him, giving him a small smile. They’re both silent for a moment.

“Well,” she says. “He’s lucky.”

Patrick nods. Tears are welling in his eyes, threatening to spill over. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, wrapping his arms around himself.

She shakes her head. “Don’t be,” she says gently. “Not for me.”

Patrick feels like shit. Rachel’s come looking for him to win him back, which, granted, is poor judgment on her part, considering their past. But he’s the one who let it get this far. He’s the one who tried so forcefully to keep his past and present apart that they’ve ended up colliding in a fiery explosion. He rubs his eyes.

He’s fucked everything up.

“He hates me,” he whispers hoarsely. The tears are falling freely now. Rachel reaches across the table and squeezes his arm.

“I guarantee you that’s not true,” she says softly.

“He said he needs space,” he protests. She of all people knows what that means.

“So give him space,” she says. “Then talk to him, and tell him the truth.”

He nods. It makes perfect sense. It’s what he should have done before.

Rachel stands, leans over to kiss him on the cheek, and goes back to her hotel room.

Patrick puts out the grill and throws the trash away before he gets in his car and drives home.

That night, he sends David a text that takes him an hour to draft. He wants to give David the space he needs, but he also wants to be absolutely clear where he stands.

>>I know you need space. I just need you to know that I want to be with you. I’m here when you’re ready to talk.

**********************************

Patrick is living in silent agony.

He’s unpacking lotion and David is just hovering, right there next to him, fidgeting and acting like he can be of some help. After their conversation that morning, Patrick would like nothing more than to hide in the back room and avoid David’s presence for the rest of the day, and possibly the rest of the week, but there’s too much to do. There’s a business to run. His only choice is to be out on the store sales floor, restocking products with his ex-lover at his elbow and wondering how the hell he could have fucked this up so badly. 

Because what makes it worse, like salt being constantly rubbed in his wound, is the ever-present knowledge that this is all his fault. He’d lied by omission, betraying David’s already tenuous trust, knowing how cautious and fragile he was, and then had ignored his request for time and space and smothered him with texts and flowers and candy. The result is exactly what Patrick should expect. David doesn’t want him anymore. The only real thing Patrick has ever had in his life is ruined, and he ruined it. Several times over.

And what makes it exponentially more terrible is that they run a business together and he’ll have to see David every day for the rest of his damn life, or at least until one of them decides to move on.

“David,” he says irritably, the third time David’s hands brush up against his, “this really isn’t a two-person job.” He can’t bear the feel of David’s touch right now. He misses him too much, misses _them_ , and every brush of their fingers is sending a fresh spike of sorrow into his gut.

David holds his hands up. “I’m sorry,” he says defensively.

Patrick sighs, gripping the edge of the table in front of him and taking a deep breath. “Why don’t you go get some lunch while I finish this?” he says. Tempering his mood in the interest of professionalism is getting exhausting.

David stutters and stammers through a nonsensical sentence and Patrick finally loses his temper. “David, I’m just trying to do what you wanted!” he exclaims, exasperated.

“You didn’t let me finish telling you what I wanted!” David argues loudly. “I was ready to get back together days ago!”

Patrick is momentarily blindsided, and coils of sadness that are wrapped around his heart begin to loosen as he stares at David in disbelief. Part of him wonders if he’s hallucinating.

“What?” he asks on an exhale. He has to know. He has to hear the words.

“Yes!” David exclaims. He looks a bit like he’s trying to find something more to say and finally gives up.

A weight lifts from Patrick’s shoulders, and the dark cloud tainting his worldview for the past week begins to dissipate as a glimmer of hope shines through. Patrick struggles to temper his reaction.

"Then- then why didn’t we?” he asks. All he really wants to do is gather David in his arms and kiss him, but he has a feeling they aren’t quite there yet.

David is beginning to look a little sheepish, and Patrick suddenly gets the distinct feeling he’s about to be treated to one of the more adventurous facets of David’s personality.

“I’ve never been in this situation before,” David begins. 

Okay, Patrick thinks. Fair enough.

“With someone who’s so nice… and generous,” David continues. 

Understanding lands, and Patrick has to physically fight the temptation to roll his eyes. “I’m sorry, am I to understand that the reason you haven’t talked to me in a week is because you’ve been getting _gifts_?” he asks incredulously, staring at David.

To his credit, David does look quite sheepish and cowers just a little at Patrick’s glare of indignation.

“I was very upset and confused,” he attempts, and Patrick releases a laugh of disbelief and has to lean on the table, putting his face in his hands.

Regardless of how ridiculous David is, and how frustrated and exasperated Patrick is at this moment, Patrick is fully aware that the primary emotion he’s currently feeling is unbridled relief. That David is ridiculous is not news to Patrick, not by a long shot, and while the ways in which David is ridiculous are bound to always keep him on his toes, Patrick focuses on the more important development. David wants him back. Sure, he’s spent roughly three days being a greedy idiot, but that’s something Patrick has it in him to forgive.

Eventually.

“So,” David says cautiously, walking his fingers up Patrick’s shirt as Patrick turns to face him, “does this mean that we are back?”

“You know what,” he says, cupping David’s face in his hands and only just managing to steady his voice, “how about this: I’m going to go get some lunch, and you’re going to stay here and think about what you’ve done.” He stalks towards the front door.

David is nothing but agreeable and accommodating. Until he asks Patrick to get him lunch too.

“Unbelievable,” Patrick says by way of response, slamming the door of the store behind him.

He manages to wait until he’s out of the store’s line of sight, should David be watching him, before he bursts out laughing.

“What the hell have I gotten myself into?” he asks the air, reaching up and running his fingers through his hair.

He’s euphoric. He hadn’t answered when David had asked if they were back together, but of course the answer was yes. Patrick is beginning to realize that he will never be able to deny David. That doesn’t mean he can’t torture him a little, though. He smiles to himself. He sticks his hands in his pockets and closes his fingers around something he’d gotten for David a week ago, before the barbecue fiasco. 

He still fully intends on giving it to him, but David will have to earn it first.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have Patrick have his own apartment in this chapter because I didn't like putting these two in awkward situations for sex. Also, he's a grown-ass adult and needs his own space. Finally, I think Patrick having a home of his own works story-wise with where these two are going with their romance.

_“I hang on every word you say_  
_Tear us apart_  
_Baby I would rather be dead_  
_Oh you're the best”_

Patrick is shaking with laughter. His boyfriend’s extensive interpretive dance for his favorite song is definitely one of the most ridiculous things he’s ever seen. 

He’s also aware that for David, deliberately doing something ridiculous is along the same lines as proposing marriage or donating a kidney, so he watches with all the appreciation of a man receiving a very meaningful gift from his very serious partner.

The song ends, and David all but collapses on his lap, gripping his thighs. “I made that up when I was fourteen,” he says, panting a little. “I’ve never shown it to anyone.” His eyes are bright with exertion.

The admission makes Patrick’s heart swell even as he laughs, and makes his next comment on David’s dance completely true. “That was the most amazingly beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” he says, slipping his arms around David’s neck.

David looks pleased and tries to hide it. “Well, I know that’s not true,” he says in his characteristic self-deprecating way, “but that’s very kind and thank you for saying so.”

Their laughter dies down and David leans closer, and Patrick immediately gives in to their shared need for contact. A week without touch was too long, he realizes, and as their foreheads touch, he reaches up to tuck a stray strand of David’s hair back where it belongs. He lets his fingers stray from there to trace the lines of David’s lovely face, and his stomach pulls almost painfully.

Three words are on the tip of his tongue. Patrick knows he would find them easy to say, but the uncertainty of how David will receive them holds him back.

In Patrick’s hesitation, David voices his own admission, the words different than those Patrick wants to say, but just as heartfelt. “I missed you so much,” he says, his voice sounding small and vulnerable. “I’m sorry it took me so long.”

Patrick feels guilt and shame anew. “I missed you too,” he promises David. “And I am really sorry I didn’t tell you about Rachel sooner, I just -”

David is shaking his head, pulling Patrick to him. “Don’t,” he says tightly. “Don’t apologize anymore,” and kisses Patrick, and Patrick thinks if he wasn’t sitting down he’d be swooning with the intensity of it.

And suddenly it’s like they were never separate, their kiss unfurling into an embrace and more as Patrick pulls David between his knees, his mouth sliding over David’s, his tongue stroking David’s mouth. Patrick sighs contentedly at the feeling of David’s hands roving over his body and aches to make up for lost time. It’s been far too long since they were this close to one another.

They break apart. Patrick decides that David has more than made up for making him wait a week to speak to him. “I do have one more thing to give you,” he says.

David looks a little like a deer in headlights. “Ah, that’s really not necessary,” he says. “Also, I’m out of dances, so if we’re exchanging gifts -” he gestures around his impromptu dance floor as if to illustrate its inadequacy.

Patrick chuckles. “No, no, it’s not like that.” He stands up and reaches into his pocket and pulls the keyring out, handing it to David. “I was going to give it to you the night of the barbecue. It was supposed to be kind of a surprise.”

David looks confused. He picks up the keyring and holds it between to fingers, dangling it in the air. “It’s a key to…” he says, looking questionably at Patrick.

Patrick grins. “I rented an apartment over on Second Street. Ray owns it. I finished moving in yesterday.” Not spending his free time with David has had the effect of having all his things moved in and unpacked in record time. Silver linings, he supposes.

David looks for all the world like he’s trying to decipher an incredibly difficult riddle. “You rented an apartment,” he says slowly. Patrick can see the dots connecting in his brain.

“Mm-hm,” Patrick confirms. “And that is your key.” He taps at it.

David blinks several times, looking at the key in his hand. “My key. To your apartment.”

Patrick feels the familiar sensation of panic begin to seep into his chest. Maybe David isn’t confused about the key. Maybe he’s trying to think of a way to tell Patrick he doesn’t want it. That this was too big a step, that they are moving to fast. They’ve just gotten back together _today_. Patrick feels like an idiot. What is he thinking?

“David?” he asks, and he can’t keep the trembling out of his voice. “Is this - too fast? I didn’t mean to-”

He’s abruptly cut off, as David has thrown himself at Patrick and wrapped his arms around him in a vice grip. Patrick has to brace himself against David’s excited bouncing.

“I love my key!” he exclaims delightedly. “I love my key to your apartment!”

Patrick laughs, relieved. “I’m glad you like it - ow - David!” he says, doing his best to stay upright.

David calms himself and stands in front of Patrick, his hands on his shoulders. Patrick, emboldened by David’s reaction, pulls him close and says earnestly, “Come over. Have dinner with me.” 

David nods. “Yes. Dinner is on me. Pizza or Chinese?” He starts dialing his phone.

“Chinese,” Patrick requests, perching his chin on David’s shoulder and grinning.

They’re back.

******************************

Patrick sips his whiskey. “Ray’s a good guy,” he’s saying, “but man, was I ready to get out of his place.”

David has wholeheartedly approved of his apartment, which means more to Patrick than he’ll ever admit out loud. He wants David to want to spend time here. He’d actually passed up a couple places that were available earlier that had been a little rough around the edges. He doesn’t think David would have necessarily refused to visit them; but he wants David to feel at home in his home, and this place, with its historic charm and renovated finishes, feels like a home.

“Yeah,” David agrees. He sets his glass down and slides closer to Patrick, so their thighs touch. “Now we can do things like this -” and Patrick’s eyes flutter shut as David presses his mouth to the sensitive spot on his throat “- without getting caught.”

David pulls back, perhaps to gauge Patrick’s reaction, but Patrick is already moving. Alight with lust, he drops his glass of whiskey next to David’s on the coffee table and swivels to climb into David’s lap. He straddles his waist, pressing their bodies together, and it’s been too fucking long not feeling David against him. Patrick wraps his arms around him and kisses him as if his life depends on it. For all Patrick knows, maybe it does.

He reigns in some control as they break apart, breathless, and Patrick is compelled to murmur his disclaimer in David’s ear. “I promise I didn’t ask you here tonight to seduce you,” he says, gripping the front of David’s sweater in his hands.

David scoffs. “Just so we’re clear,” he says, trailing kisses down Patrick’s throat and onto the part of his chest exposed by his open shirt buttons, “I’m seducing you right now,” and then he has a third button open and is tonguing Patrick’s bare skin over his heart.

He gives a shuddering laugh. “Jesus, David,” he breathes, his voice breaking, “I missed you so much,” for the tenth time today.

David makes it his mission to remove Patrick’s shirt as their kisses intensify, and Patrick moans into the kiss as his bare skin is graced by the sensation of David stroking him all over, as if to make sure he’s real. David’s hands end up on his ass, squeezing, and Patrick needs more contact, needs David to be as undressed as he is. He pulls away just far enough to work David’s sweater over his head, then collapses back down against him, pressing his lips on the sculpted curve of David’s shoulder, following his collarbone to his throat, and dipping his tongue into the hollow there.

As his lips continue their journey, David clears his throat. “I want to thank you for inviting me into your lovely home,” he says softly.

Patrick will absolutely not stand for this. “Don’t you dare leave right now,” he growls, and he almost doesn’t recognize his voice. He’s pleased to feel David tremble a little beneath him.

“Not a chance,” David says hurriedly, “I was just -”

Patrick is far enough gone that he’d very much like to have David in his bed tonight, and he decides that perhaps a little seduction might be a good idea after all. He fingers David’s nipples, knowing they’re sensitive, and delights in the sound that results.

“- ahh -” he feels the shudder of arousal go through his lover and smiles, following the trail of hair from his chest down his stomach “- wondering if you’d like to give me a tour of your bedroom.”

Patrick doesn’t need a moment’s consideration or any more prompting from David. He stands, aware of his erection straining against his jeans, and motions for David to follow him. “This way,” he says, leading to the back bedroom.

He’s in the door and switching on the light and feels the warmth of David’s body behind him, and he turns to gather David in his arms once more for desperate kisses as he tugs off David’s pants and underwear. Patrick palpates the bare skin on David’s back, hips, and thighs, and wonders if David knows how beautiful he is.

David’s eyes are hooded with desire. “I want -” he begins. Patrick’s hand has strayed to David’s cock, and he can’t help but stroke him once or twice to watch him stutter.

He does, however, want to hear the end of that sentence. “Anything,” he says, taking his hand from David to undo and remove his own clothing. “Anything you want.”

He means it. He feels none of the hesitation or insecurity he’s felt during their past sexual encounters. Patrick is fully aware of himself and his desires, and tonight he has very clear ideas for fulfilling them. The anticipation of sex with David, however they go about achieving it, brings him want and need, but no anxiety. He looks at David as he throws his underwear aside.

David trembles a little, his hands on Patrick’s shoulders, squeezing. “I want you inside me.” His voice is a whisper.

What’s left working in Patrick’s brain stutters to a halt. He cups David’s face, looking in his eyes, and asks for clarification, because he needs to make damn sure, “You want me to fuck you?” The obscenity falling from his lips and the implication of its meaning in this context only serve to make him harder than he already is.

David nods, almost shyly, a flush coming up his chest. “Yes,” he whispers, then adds, “please.”

Patrick is on fire. 

He had at first guessed, and later hoped, that their relationship would come to include this, but had let the more-experienced David take the lead in terms of deciding exactly when it was appropriate. Now with its eventuation, with David requesting this level of intimacy and trusting Patrick to be his partner, Patrick’s body burns with lust. 

He steps closer into David’s space, letting his desire show on his face, and tilts his head to whisper into his ear, “I want to hear you say it.” He needs to hear it, both for clarity and because he wants to hear the filthy request from David’s own lips.

David’s eyelids flutter shut for a moment in his arousal, and a sense of pride fills Patrick that he’s affected his lover so much. He complies with Patrick’s request. “I want you to fuck me,” he says in a shaking voice. 

Patrick looks at him, taking in his entire body, naked and beautiful, before leaning forward and kissing him deeply. He kisses David because he only has three words for him, words which are simmering ever closer to the surface, threatening to spill over, and even in this intimate moment Patrick fears David isn’t ready to hear them. He kisses him slowly, completely, and by the time Patrick breaks the kiss David is trembling and panting audibly. Patrick points to the bed.

David can’t seem to climb into bed fast enough, and Patrick smiles at his enthusiasm. He pulls the nightstand open and grabs a condom and some lube, tearing the condom packet open halfway so it’s ready when they are. He drops onto the bed on his knees and joins David, who is already spread open for him, and Patrick has never seen anyone more beautiful than David Rose lying naked and hard on his back, squeezing his own cock with his legs spread wide and knees up, wanting and waiting to be fucked, and Patrick thinks he’s the luckiest man in the world.

He touches David. His waist, his stomach, his thighs, then moves to stroke his cock, squeezing his balls lightly and brushing his fingers against David’s opening. He lifts David’s knees to his chest to expose him even more, and the very last remnants of his brain remind him that he’d like David to enjoy being fucked, and Patrick murmurs, “Just keep talking to me,” and David nods quickly as Patrick dispenses some lube into the palm of his hand. He wraps his fingers around David’s cock and starts slowly jerking him off, watching his cheeks and chest flush and his thighs shake, and Patrick has to squeeze his own erection a few times, gripping himself at the base, to ease some of the ache.

He waits until David is quaking and moving his hips into his hand before he uses more lube on his fingers and massages his opening. He looks up at David to make sure, and at David’s quick nod, presses two fingers against the opening. David takes a deep breath and then Patrick fingers disappear inside of him, his body welcoming the intrusion. Patrick watches, enraptured with the sight of his fingers disappearing inside David, and then adds a third finger and works him open until David is shaking and begging.

“You,” he gasps. “Please. You.”

Patrick has never heard anything sexier, but he thinks he can one-up himself. He angles his fingers inside David and slows his fingering to a torturous pace. “Tell me what you want,” he says, looking at David in the eyes. 

David looks utterly broken. “Fuck me,” he begs, and Patrick is rolling the condom over his erection before David can even finish his plea. “Patrick, fuck me, please.”

Patrick covers his sheathed cock in lube and grasps David’s ass with one hand. He holds his cock at the base and enters David slowly, watching his face, intent on pleasuring him as much as possible, but the pleasure of entering him threatens to engulf him, and Patrick struggles to maintain control of his body as he’s enveloped by tight warmth.

“Fuck,” Patrick gasps, gripping David’s thighs as he sinks into him. Sex has never felt this good. His mind is short-circuiting, and he’s only vaguely aware of David lifting his hips to take him further.

“Deeper,” David is murmuring. “I want all of you.”

Patrick isn’t sure he’ll survive being entirely enveloped. “Fuck, David,” he says, trembling with the effort of easing into him rather than pounding as hard as he can. “Fuck.”

“Yes,” David answers desperately. He’s moving his body into Patrick as much as he can in the position he’s in, holding his knees up with his legs spread. “Do that.”

Finally, finally, Patrick pushes deeper, letting David take all of him in, spurred on by his sexy little gasps and mews as Patrick is fully seated inside of him. Patrick stops, because he’s dangerously close to coming and because he wants to make sure David is comfortable, and David is wriggling under him and begging and Patrick almost comes undone.

“Are you good?” Patrick asks, unwilling to not be a gentleman, given the circumstances.

“Yes, Patrick, _fuck me_ ,” David begs again, and Patrick takes him at his word. He draws his hips back slowly and pushes forward again, and then he’s fucking David in easy, steady strokes, and Patrick has never felt anything more perfect. The way David’s knees come up around his back, the gentle clench of the tight muscles he’s buried in, the noises of need and pleasure David’s emitting on every stroke, the way David’s fingers are clutching Patrick’s shoulders. Patrick is home, and he wants - he needs - to make it last for as long as possible.

David’s legs are quaking and he’s reaching to touch himself, and Patrick gently intercepts his hand. He wants David to come, but he’s not ready for this to be over. He finds both of David’s hands, links his fingers around his wrists and presses them into the pillow above his head. David doesn’t resist; on the contrary, his fingers interweave with Patrick’s and Patrick feels the tension bleed out of David’s body and relax into the pillows as Patrick continues his deep, easy thrusts, bottoming out with each one.

Still, he feels the need to explain himself. Keeping his body from touching David’s engorged cock between them, he dips his head down and whispers in David’s ear, “I don’t want you to finish yet.” 

David shakes his head. “Hm-mm,” he mumbles. His face is slack with pleasure and his eyes are closed.

The feeling of David’s trusting acquiescence, of his physical surrender to Patrick, is shaking Patrick to his core. Again, the words are on his tongue, ready to be said, but Patrick reels himself in. He needs to speak, though; he needs words to explain how this feels, and the only thing that bubbles up is the stark truth. “I like fucking you in my bed,” he murmurs to David, kissing him with all the affection he’s feeling. His bed is where David belongs.

His words are met with a gentle clench of muscles around his cock, and David’s legs begin to quake again. Patrick smiles into their kiss; David likes dirty talk, apparently. That, he can deliver.  


“Mm-hmm,” David is nodding, agreeing, and Patrick increases the pace of his thrusts ever so slightly.

“Do you like it?” Patrick asks silkily, kissing him again, and when they break apart, Patrick’s thrusts are picking up and David is trembling and saying desperately, “Yes, I like it when you fuck me,” and gasping in pleasure as Patrick takes care to aim his strokes just right. 

“Patrick, please,” he begs, looking broken and beautiful and Patrick wants to give him what he needs, and he holds himself up to better aim his thrusts.

“Tell me how to make you come,” Patrick insists, struggling to control his body, but David is begging and writhing beneath him, spreading his legs and curling up to seek out his cock, and Patrick’s self-control is very quickly slipping.

“Right there,” David gasps as Patrick hits his prostate, “as hard as you can,” and at that, Patrick’s control snaps, and he drives into David in him again and again. David’s ass is now clenching hard around him as he repeatedly strokes just the right spot to make David cry out in pleasure, and Patrick buries himself in the exquisitely tight warmth of his body, reveling in the sensations that the friction gives him. David comes with delighted moans, his muscles wrapping around Patrick’s cock and rippling rhythmically as David’s seed spreads over his stomach and chest, and Patrick gives in to his own release, gasping and burying his head in David’s shoulder as he shudders with pleasure before collapsing on top of him.

Coming down from euphoria, Patrick is remiss to do anything but remain in full contact with David. He pulls out gently, disposing of the condom, then lays against his chest, entangled with him. David strokes his back as they catch their breath. Patrick can’t think of any words to express how utterly perfect their coupling was, but luckily, David beats him to it.

“So that was the best sex I’ve ever had,” he murmurs against the top of Patrick’s head. “Like, by far.”

Definitely something they can agree on. “Same,” Patrick chuckles. He’s aware of the pride swelling in his chest at the thought of being at the top of David’s sex-list.

“We should do it again sometime,” David says nonchalantly. 

As if Patrick was ever going to have sex with anyone else.

“Mm-hm,” he agrees, lifting his head and smiling at David. He props his head up and rests his elbow above David’s shoulder. “We can, now that I have this place.” He suddenly feels a little naughty. “We could do all sorts of things, come to think of it.”

David grins at him. “Yes,” he says.

“And you have a key,” Patrick reminds him. He would like very much for David to use his key.

“Yes,” David says, and the pleased look on his face makes warmth swell in Patrick’s heart.

He gets up to clean up, wiping David’s come off the both of them with a couple washcloths. David lies spread-eagle on the bed, watching him, and as Patrick tosses the dirty washcloths in the laundry, he asks, “So you really liked it?”

Patrick doesn’t know how David could have any doubts, and he wants to cast away those doubts as quickly as possible. “I loved it,” he says earnestly. _I love you_ , he thinks desperately.

David smiles as Patrick crawls into bed with him and kisses him on the lips. “I think my gay card is pretty well punched at this point,” Patrick adds, and he’s happy when David laughs out loud.

Patrick snuggles up against David and then pulls the bedcovers over them. Now that the initial high of their lovemaking has waned, he can feel the fatigue of so much physical exertion taking its toll. His eyelids are heavy.

“Stay the night?” he asks, as if David has made any movement to go anywhere other than Patrick’s bed in the last hour.

“I’m not going anywhere,” David replies softly. 

Resting his head on David’s shoulder, Patrick hopes it’s true.


	7. Chapter 7

Patrick wakes before David, opening his eyes as the early morning sun scatters through the sheer curtains. 

He feels the warmth of David’s body next to him, and looks over at him. David is sprawled out on his back on his side of the bed. He has the covers up to his chin and is still sleeping deeply. Patrick eases out of bed quietly, not wanting to wake him. Pulling on a pair of pajama bottoms over his boxers, he steps into the kitchen and starts the coffee pot, then looks out of the window while he waits.

The morning is bright and dewy, chilly with the onset of autumn, and Patrick shivers a little, wishing he’d grabbed a shirt. He thinks of David asleep in his bed and is remiss to disturb him just for extra clothes.

It was the third time in four days that David has spent the night, and Patrick has yet to get tired of him. In the several weeks since they’d first had penetrative sex, they’d done it a few times. Patrick smiled to himself. Each encounter had been just as perfect as the first. Better, even.

Last night had been different, though. Last night, David had come over. They’d started watching a movie together. David had fallen asleep with his head on Patrick’s shoulder halfway through it, which had lead to Patrick waking him gently, lending him pajamas, and tucking him into bed. 

They’d slept together without having sex.

The number of times they’ve spent entire nights together at all is far too small for Patrick’s liking, but it has been necessitated by their respective living situations up until a few weeks ago, when Patrick had moved in here. Since then, David has been staying over a few days a week. They’d have sex each time they’d spent the night together, which is definitely to Patrick’s liking, but then last night they hadn’t, and David had stayed anyway. Patrick isn’t sure he has the words to communicate to David how important that is to him - except the three words he still isn’t sure he should say.

Patrick is in love with David Rose. He loves him in a way he’s never loved anyone, not even Rachel. He knows now that this is what being in love feels like. If Patrick is completely honest with himself, he knows he’d like to spend the rest of his life with David. They’re only five months into their relationship, but he’s sure about it in a way that he never was with the one person he’d actually been engaged to. Patrick has always been the monogamous type, and that hasn’t changed with the recent discovery of his sexual orientation.

What he isn’t as sure of is the depth of David’s feelings for him. He knows David likes him, is very fond of him, has deep affection for him, etc. He knows David is relatively possessive of him. Sometimes David does and says things that convince Patrick that David is in love with him as well, but Patrick also knows how guarded David is, and why, and he understands that saying “I love you” is something he should approach carefully.

Gazing out the window and lost in thought, Patrick doesn’t notice David come into the kitchen until he comes up behind him, slipping his arms around him and pressing his chest against Patrick’s back. “I smell coffee,” he mumbles into Patrick’s hair by way of a greeting, pressing a kiss to his head.

“Good morning to you too,” Patrick chuckles, turning around in David’s arms and enfolding him into an embrace that he accepts readily. David is wearing a faded, threadbare Blue Jays t-shirt (“Sorry, what is this?” he’d asked when Patrick had tossed it to him last night) and some plaid flannel pants. Patrick doubts David had touched flannel ever in his life before last night. 

Patrick grins. Rumpled and sleepy in his borrowed pajamas, David looks adorable.

“Mmmm,” David sighs into Patrick’s embrace, and Patrick can feel the familiar warmth unfurl in his belly and bolster his heart. “Thanks for letting me crash early last night. Not sure why I was so tired.”

“Hey, anytime,” Patrick says earnestly. “You know I don’t keep you around just for booty calls.”

David giggles a little. “I know,” he murmurs into Patrick’s neck.

Patrick slides his hands up David’s back and buries his fingers in his hair. David lifts his face off Patrick’s shoulder and they kiss softly. “I’m serious,” Patrick says quietly. “You’re welcome here anytime.”

David looks at him then, and it’s one of those times Patrick finds it the hardest to keep his feelings reigned in, because he can almost imagine David returning the sentiment. David’s eyes are shining with affection, and Patrick thinks he’d like to live in this feeling forever.

“Thank you,” David says sincerely.

Patrick wants so desperately for that to be the moment he says it, and almost generates the courage to do so, but in a moment his courage falters. He smiles instead, giving David a gentle squeeze. “I’m gonna get going,” he says, heading out of the kitchen and back into his bedroom to dress. “Singles Week is starting and I think we still have some re-stocking to do.”

“Kay,” David calls after him. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. Alexis needs my help with something, apparently.”

Patrick sighs. He’s disappointed in himself, that he’s allowed his courage to wane, and resolves to make his feelings known at the next opportunity. David deserves to know the truth, and frankly, Patrick needs to tell him the truth before it burns him up inside.

*****************************************  
“I will get you a tea,” David is agreeing, and Patrick tries to temper the feeling of disappointment that trembles in his heart.

“Could you just do me a favor? Can you just not look at me while I carry this box out of the room? I don’t want you to regret any of the wonderful things you just said to me.” David is holding the box awkwardly and trying to open the front door.

Patrick gives him no such courtesy, and watches David, amused, as he struggles through the door.

“That went well,” Patrick sighs as David lugs his box of dog sweaters down the sidewalk.

It isn’t that he thinks David doesn’t appreciate what he’s said. David clearly does. The look on his face, aside from the shock, had been a delighted, almost preening acceptance of Patrick’s feelings. Comparing him to Mariah Carey had validated everything Patrick feels for David. 

David also hadn’t immediately dumped Patrick, so he supposes that’s a win.

But it has clearly taken David by surprise. Patrick feels a little guilty for putting him on the spot like that. Maybe he should have waited until they were in private, or until the business with Ted and Alexis had settled a little. 

Patrick sighs again and begins to unpack the box of massage oils David has ordered. In Patrick’s opinion, it was a little premature; they had no way of guessing how many they’d sell, and considering the unknown elements of the single people currently descending on Schitt’s Creek, Patrick wasn’t even sure something as romantic and sensual as massage oil would be in demand. Still, it wasn’t the first time David had been right about something he’d decided based on intuition.

Foot traffic through the store picks up shortly after that, and over the next half hour, Patrick is somewhat shocked that he is able to sell six bottles of the organic, plant-derived scented oils. The uptick in their business is enough to make Patrick feel a little better about his interaction with David, and as his boyfriend returns to the store, Patrick has to give him credit for his instinctual purchasing decision.

“I’ve gotta hand it to you, David,” he says, coming around the counter as David steps through the front door. “We’ve already sold half of those massage oils you ordered. It’s like you’re some kind of weird guru when it comes to the sex lives of lonely people.”

David has an odd look on his face. “It’s a gift,” he says dismissively, waving his hand.

“How’d it go with Ted?” Patrick asks, recalling the earlier source of David’s distress, aside from Patrick’s admission of love.

David doesn’t answer. Instead, he wraps his arms around Patrick’s neck and kisses him. Surprised but pleased, Patrick accepts the kiss, wondering what had gotten into him.

David pulls back, and Patrick opens his mouth to ask what’s up, when the words that Patrick has wanted, has needed for weeks now, flow from David uninhibited.

“I love you,” David says, smiling softly. Tears are welling in his eyes.

Patrick breathes.

The sincerity of David’s words fill him with warmth, threatening to engulf him. For that moment, Patrick doesn’t know what to say. Even after his admission this morning, Patrick hadn’t expected David to come back to him with those words so very soon. He had hoped at the very least that David would find the courage to say them by Christmas. But here David is, standing in front of him and clutching his shoulders and telling Patrick he loves him, and Patrick wonders for a moment how his heart will hold the joy he’s feeling at the sensation of being loved by David Rose.

Finally, Patrick says the only thing he can think of.

“I know I’ll never be able to compete with Mariah,” he tells David, looking him in the eyes, and David nods, “but this just feels like one of those perfect moments you dream about.”

David is wordless, but from the look in his eyes, he agrees.

Patrick can’t resist. “Except in my dreams I’m holding a nice cup of tea,” he ribs good-naturedly.

David blinks, remembering. ”Oh, _fuck_ ,” he hisses, and makes towards the door.

Patrick lets him go, grinning.

*****************************************

They’re making dinner together at Patrick’s one night, a month or so later, when David’s phone starts buzzing on the counter. Ping after ping of text message alerts cause it to nearly vibrate onto the floor.

“Oh, my god,” David mutters irritably, snatching the phone and thumbing the screen on. “What the hell - ugh, Alexis.”

“Everything okay?” Patrick asks. He retrieves glasses from the cupboard and starts pouring drinks.

“Yeah,” David says, brow furrowed as he scrolls through Alexis’s messages. “Yeah, no, she’s just excited, I guess. Apparently she and Ted are engaged. Again.” His voice takes on a slightly sardonic tone.

Patrick smiles. “Not surprised in the least,” he chuckles.

“No, I suppose not,” David sighs, perching on a stool at the counter. “Thanks,” he says as Patrick hands a glass to him and sips from his own.

Patrick has a question he’s not quite sure how to ask, but this is as good a time as any, so he poses it as delicately and neutrally as he can. “Have you, ah, ever thought about marriage? For yourself?” He busies himself with slicing a loaf of bread, afraid to look at David directly for a moment.

“Eh,” David says absently, still scrolling through Alexis’s messages, “I’ve never really seriously considered it. Until now I’ve never been with anyone who was a suitable ‘life partner,’ if you know what I mean.” He crosses his legs and sips his drink.

Patrick blinks and looks directly at David, who is still engrossed in his phone. “‘Until now’?” he repeats, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. He leans on the counter and looks pointedly at his boyfriend.

David finally looks up, realizing what he’s just admitted to, and starts desperately qualifying. “Oh, well, you know,” he waves his hand at Patrick, “I mean, you. You’re -” he gesticulates in Patrick’s direction as if that’s sufficient to elaborate on his comment.

Patrick isn’t letting him off the hook. “‘I’m’?” he prompts, pointing at himself and grinning. He looks at David expectantly.

David rolls his eyes. “You’re the type one brings home to their parents, you know.” He pauses for a second, then adds thoughtfully, “Actually, you’re the only person I’ve brought home to my parents.” An impish smile is creeping across his face. “And you know, I respect you, and care about you, and think you’re nice.”

Patrick is struggling to hold in his laughter at David’s reluctance to afford him any kind of compliment. Picking up his drink, he sidles over to David’s stool and stands between his knees. “Glad to know I’m husband material,” he says cheekily, sipping his whiskey. 

“Well I’m not _proposing_ to you right now,” David retorts indignantly.

Truth be told, Patrick thinks that what David said is as good as, but he doesn’t tell him that. “I completely understand,” he says, mocking seriousness, putting his hand on David’s shoulder and squeezing.

“Because assuming a year-long engagement, that would put our wedding in the fall,” David continues seriously, “and there’s no way I’m color-boarding for anything other than spring.”

“Noted,” Patrick laughs and kisses his cheek. The phrase “our wedding” coming from David is enough to propel Patrick’s spirits to dangerous heights. That’ll buy David at least two or three of his ridiculous capers. _Never considered it, my ass,_ Patrick thinks.

“I love you,” he adds against David’s ear. 

He feels David smile.

“I love you, too,” David says, turning his head to press his lips to Patrick’s.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is identical to the final chapter of "The Little Things," to symbolize the events in the chapter.

It’s the little things, David is realizing, that made him fall in love with Patrick.

Granted, it is the first time in his life that he’s had a partner that actually did the little things. Previously, his relationships - if you could call them that - had burned hot and fast, igniting in passionate bursts, attraction and desire fueling the flames, before dying in unceremonious arguments or flickering into cold indifference. He’d say he regretted those relationships, except that he hadn’t felt strongly enough about them for their endings to generate any amount of regret.

Now, these pointed little gestures resonate more than any of the times he’s been swept off his feet. It’s the caramel macchiatos made exactly to his liking, and remembering how he likes his burgers cooked. It’s the tickets to his favorite romantic comedies, and serenading him with his favorite songs. It’s the frame on the wall displaying the store’s first sales receipt. It’s amazing, really. David has never considered himself a romantic, but he has to admit to himself now that romantic is all he’s ever been.

David has always been known for grand gestures, but being in love has grounded him more than he ever thought possible. 

For Patrick, it’s the intrigue and romance David brings to his life every day since the very moment they’d met that has ensnared Patrick’s heart to the point of no return.

Patrick, ever the unruffled stalwart, isn’t taken by surprise very easily or very often. He’d moved to Schitt’s Creek amidst the settling dust of his only real long-term relationship. That relationship had been stable and predictable in itself, but had been conspicuously missing elements of passion and synchronicity Patrick had never known he needed. In moving here to escape something, he’d unwittingly run straight to David Rose.

Recovering from his initial surprise at his desire to pursue David had, in retrospect, been easy, and Patrick is consistently pleased at how David continues to surprise him. Patrick would never have guessed he’d pair well with someone as creative and mercurial as David, yet the passion that ensues as a result of their pairing is more enticing to Patrick than anything he’s ever felt before.

David walks into the store on New Year’s Eve, wrapped in his wool parka. Patrick is there waiting for him with a caramel macchiato whilst poring through a spreadsheet of their monthly transactions. “Welcome back,” he says cheerfully, glancing up to smile at David before looking back down at the laptop perched on the edge of the counter. David thinks they must be doing well, if Patrick looks that happy about the numbers.

“Ready for open mic night tonight?” David asks. It’s to be their fourth, and by the looks of it, the most popular one yet. Holding it on New Year’s Eve was a way to get people in the performing mood, apparently.

Patrick looks up at him and grins. “You bet,” he says. “Got my song all figured out.” He’s careful not to betray the butterflies in his stomach.

David is curious. “What are you singing?” he asks, going around the counter to stand behind Patrick and rub his shoulders.

Patrick turns his head to peck David on the lips. “It’s a surprise,” he says mysteriously.

David whines a little. “I hate surprises,” he says.

Patrick rolls his eyes. “You love surprises,” he retorts. It’s true. “Anyway, you still have to go pick up the extra tote bags. We’re almost out”

“Uugh,” David moans. “Fine.” He picks up the macchiato. “I’m taking this with me, though.”

Patrick waves him off, grinning.

******************************  
By the time David gets back to the store, it’s filled with people and the lights are already dimmed. Alexis is helping by selling drink tickets at the door. “David!” she chirps happily as she holds the door open for him. “There’s so many people signed up tonight. I can’t wait to hear Ronnie’s show tunes.”

David cringes. “God, I hope there’s a little more variety than that.” He lugs the box of shopping bags inside and nods at Ted, who is at Alexis’s elbow with the cash box. 

Patrick, on the performance floor in the corner, is tuning his guitar and tapping experimentally on the microphone. “Thanks for coming, everyone,” he says congenially into the mic, addressing the room at large. “I’m gonna get us started in just a few minutes.” There’s a smattering of applause as he plucks the strings on his guitar a few more times. He’s opened each one of their open mic nights, and he’s proud of his local reputation as a fairly talented, very adorable singer-songwriter. They owe at least part of their open-mic-night success to his local fans.

Johnny and Moira are in attendance as well, sitting in chairs near front windows. David studies his parents for a moment. They’re sitting close, hands clasped, talking quietly with one another, and David grins a little. Not that he’ll ever admit it, but his parents are pretty much relationship goals.

Goals which, as David considers it, he’s pretty sure he’s damn close to achieving. He turns to look over at his own beau, who is oblivious to the fact that David is admiring him from across the room. The dim lighting is warm on Patrick’s face and brings out gold flecks in his hair. David’s stomach twists pleasantly as he takes in Patrick’s features. He makes a mental note that he’d like to make love to Patrick tonight, if they can manage it after they close and make it home.

Patrick plays a few chords into the mic and the murmuring crowd gradually quiets as he strums out the intro. He doesn’t think anyone notices his hands trembling.

He stops, abruptly, looking across the room at David. “By the way, David, I poured a glass of champagne for you.” He points in David’s direction.

David grins and turns to look behind him as the audience members laugh softly at the non-sequitur. Stevie, who has manned the alcohol table, is pushing a champagne flute towards him across the counter, and David snags it as Patrick starts his intro again.

Patrick steps forward and starts singing the song he’d chosen. He’d been practicing during every spare moment he’d had without David around, and tonight he closes his eyes, the lyrics propelled by his feelings.

_“I'm running out of ways to make you see_   
_I want you to stay here beside me_   
_I won't be ok and I won't pretend I am_   
_So just tell me today and take my hand_   
_Please take my hand”_

 

David takes another sip of his champagne. Something glints in the bottom of the flute. David frowns, peering down into the glass.

His heart stops as he realizes what it is. “Oh, my god,” he says out loud, his voice breaking. He looks back up at Patrick, who is still singing, smiling softly at him.

_“Just say yes, just say there's nothing holding you back_   
_It's not a test, nor a trick of the mind, only love_   
_Just say yes, 'cause I'm aching and I know you are too_   
_For the touch of your warm skin as I breathe you in_   
_I can feel your heart beat through my shirt_   
_This was all I wanted, all I want_   
_It's all I want”_

 

David thinks he might be hyperventilating. His hands are shaking and tears are welling up in his eyes. He thinks this can’t be happening to him, but obviously it is. It is. He looks at Alexis, who is smiling brightly at him with her hands clasped under her chin. Stevie is bouncing gently next to him, grinning, and from their seats, his parents are gazing at him warmly. 

David does the only thing he can think of, and tips the champagne flute slightly to reach in and retrieve the silver ring settled in the swell of the flute. He looks back up at Patrick as he’s holding the ring in his hand, and Patrick nods as broaches the final chorus.

_“Just say yes, just say there's nothing holding you back_   
_It's not a test, nor a trick of the mind, only love_   
_Just say yes, 'cause I'm aching and I know you are too_   
_For the touch of your warm skin, as I breathe you in”_

Patrick strums the last chord, never breaking eye contact with David. The crowd provides a smattering of applause, and Patrick says quickly into the microphone, “Excuse me everyone, but I need David to answer a very important question for me real quick.” His boyfriend looks like he might be having an aneurysm.

The crowd quiets as Patrick sets his guitar down and jogs across the room to David.

David is crying. Full-on tears, hiccups, and trying in vain to speak.

 

“Hey there,” Patrick says affectionately, cupping David’s face in his hands as he reaches him.

“Yes,” David gasps. “Yes. Yes.” He wraps his arms around Patrick and sobs into his neck.

Patrick embraces him, rubbing his back. “Just to be clear,” he murmurs in David’s ear, “you’re saying you’ll marry me, right?”

David laughs through his tears. “Yes!” he exclaims. 

Patrick pulls back to look at him, grinning, joy unfurling his chest. “Good. Just making sure.” He opens David’s hand and plucks the ring from it, slides it onto David’s finger, kisses him on the lips, then trots back to the mic area amidst a smattering of applause as their friends, family, and neighbors realize what’s transpired.

“Thanks everyone,” he says breathlessly as he reaches the mic. “I’m happy to say I’ve just gotten engaged -” the applause grows more boisterous amidst hoots and hollers “- and I couldn’t ask for a better group of people to share this with.”

Neither can David. As Patrick introduces the next performer, he smiles, and David smiles back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For an acoustic “Just Say Yes” cover that I like:  
> https://youtu.be/QT3aMgPtHR0?t=10


End file.
